


Some Return; Some are Broken

by Raven_Song



Series: Star Wars Oneshots [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is a Mess, Ben gets drunk, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Lonely Ben Solo, Mentioned Leia Organa, Mentioned Luke Skywalker, Mentioned Poe Dameron, One Shot, POV Ben Solo, Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Reylo (if you squint), Unbeta'd, a drabble that got out of hand, and is moping because Rey didn't take his hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22079758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Song/pseuds/Raven_Song
Summary: She called him Ben. He hated that name. The history it came with. The loneliness. The betrayal. But when Rey said it, she said it with compassion. With hope that the broken boy would come back to Leia, to the Resistance. To Rey. When their hands had touched, Ben had felt it. The light inside of her shining like a thousand suns. The hope that always came with the Light. More than that. Rey had faith in him. In them. That together they could put the universe right.After the Battle of Crait, Kylo Ren retreats to his chambers to recover from the battle and Rey's rejection. An introspective one-shot. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine alone.
Series: Star Wars Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601797
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Some Return; Some are Broken

Inky black filled the window from edge to edge broken only by the pale pinpricks of the system’s stars. Kylo Ren stood perfectly still, his silhouette blotting out the sky. He cut an imposing figure, that was certain. A good foot taller than the majority of the crew aboard his Star Destroyer. And his dark hair and scarred face seemed to only add to the overall effect. His height and penchant for dressing in head-to-toe leather set him apart from the crisp uniforms of the officers and the polished armor of the Stormtroopers. He truly looked like the Jedi killer he was proclaimed to be.

Today, though, the usual awe and silent fear he garnered was tainted with something else. Kylo didn’t need the Force to feel it at the edge of his awareness. The crew was unsettled. The tension was palpable. Like he could cut it with a careless swing of his saber. 

No, he didn’t need the Force to sense their fear. He needed it to know why they were so afraid. Eyes still fixed before him, he let his mind brush against those of his officers. A surprisingly gentle touch: it was a pointless exercise if they were aware of what it was Kylo was doing.

He saw the picture he made in the mind of the pretty young Captain. _Ren: constantly on the move. storming around the bridge with his cape billowing or taking his monstrous lightsaber to the controls. She had never seen him so silent. So still. And underneath the facade, something wild and untamable. His famed temper like solar flares._

Kylo’s awareness drifted away from the captain and towards a twitchy Lieutenant Commander. Newly promoted. Kylo was struck by how young the man was. He was barely older than Rey. The thought twisted like a knife. Ren forced it away. _Focus_ , he chided himself. The Lieutenant Commander’s voice was hushed, so as not to anger the Supreme Leader. He was giving his superior a wide berth: refusing to walk closer than ten paces from Kylo. The cloaked man drew his awareness back into himself, having seen all he needed to in the minds of the crew.

Even the way the officers moved through the bridge spoke of tense posture and stiff muscles. Voices were pinched and hushed. As if a single word could set off the Supreme Leader. They didn’t need to worry. Kylo’s unwavering attention was fixed in the starry void before him. He was forcing himself to stay focused, stay calm. Quieting his breathing and staring out into the sky was form of meditation, an old habit from a distant childhood.

The dark was inviting. It always had been, ever since Kylo had been a small boy sent to study under Luke Skywalker to master the Jedi way. Back then, the stars had been a promise of grand adventures like the stories of his parents and his uncle from when they were young and destroyed the evil Empire. 

He dreamed of traveling the galaxy in the _Millenium Falcon_ with his father and Chewie. Visiting Uncle Lando and getting into a dogfight. Using cunning and excellent piloting skills to outwit bounty hunters and outlaws. A small black-haired boy behind the controls of the _Falcon_ , tongue pressed between his teeth in concentration as he pulled a daring maneuver and saved the day. Lando would clap him on the shoulder with a grin. Chewie would bellow his approval, and his dad would ruffle his hair. ‘Not bad, kid,’ he’d say, but Ben would see the pride in his father’s eyes. He had his father’s heart and his daring. Ben Solo: the pilot.

Some nights he longed to accompany his mother on a diplomatic mission. They would travel in luxury, so different from his father’s battered ship. Ben’s hair would be combed back, his clothes would be shining and new. Everyone would tell Leia how handsome her son was and she would smile knowingly. They would find themselves in strange lands with stranger people. Through it all, Ben would be a silent shadow, learning all he could about galactic politics and the magnificent universe he lived in by his mother’s side. He would learn to play their game. To observe, strategize, and then to speak before the Senate. Every inch his mother’s son. Ben Solo: the diplomat.

Now, the void called him for a different reason. Now it had a voice. Her voice. Strong and sure.

He snarled to himself. Rey had abandoned him. He had betrayed his master for her, renounced his past attachments for _her_. He had offered her everything. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. She was too stubborn, too proud to turn. It should incite his anger, or his sorrow. He should hate her for what she did. 

So why was it that as Kylo Ren stared out into space that he still felt that persistent pull? Their connection should’ve withered with Snoke’s death. When she shut the door of the Falcon in his face, perhaps that should have been the logical end of their entanglement. But deep in his core, Kylo knew that thread remained. Binding them together. _For what?_ He wondered. _What are we?_

Below him, the planet of Crait hung in the sky. The red of the mineral planet’s core streaking across its pale surface like blood from the clash with the Resistance. It should have been his great victory. Obliterating Skywalker and destroying the Resistance’s decimated leadership should have been beyond simple.

But Skywalker never came. Not really. The old man was a coward. Rage boiled inside of Kylo. His own uncle couldn’t even face him in person. Had made him look like a fool for believing his apparition was truly flesh and blood. And the insurgents had escaped. Because of her. 

They trusted each other unconditionally, the rebels. Kylo folded his hands into fists, leather gloves creaking as he felt his hands tremble. It enraged him. 

Rey was a stranger to the Resistance. Yes, she was a Jedi and had accomplished what no one else had done. She discovered Skywalker. But she was a scavenger from Jakku, not a legacy like the cocky pilot Dameron or an idealist like the traitor FN-2187. The Resistance didn’t mean anything to her other. She has no reason to side with them. 

Kylo understood her. Kylo had helped her discover the truth about her family. Kylo had sacrificed everything for her. She should be here. At his side. But she was gone. With her _friends_.

Weariness washed over him. There were no friends here. There were inferiors and generals. He had the most interaction with Hux, but their combative alliance was a far cry from friendship. Rey was surrounded by people who would fight for her, but not out of fear. Out of love. Hope. Surrounded by the First Order. Kylo’s First Order, he had never felt so utterly alone.

“Sir? What are our orders?” It was the Captain, standing at attention with that quiver in her voice. The one everyone in the First Order seemed had when speaking with him. She stood just out of his reach. Her gaze flicked to the saber at his waist. Then back to his face. Her stiff posture and her darting eyes belied her terror.

 _Am I really just a monster? Is that all I have become?_ He wanted to ask. 

He didn’t. Instead he forced himself to turn away from the window. His words were carefully chosen. He had been the reckless pilot on Crait. Now, the diplomat was needed.

“We need to prepare. The First Order might have won this battle, but the Resistance leaders escaped. They will regroup, rebuild. Their distress call has beamed out into the outer reaches of the galaxy. Inspiring hope. We must be prepared to snuff out that hope once and for all.”  
“As you wish, Supreme Leader.” 

Something twisted inside of him at the words. Kylo had never been good at hiding his feelings. It was something Han had chided him for when he was a boy. Then Skywalker at the Jedi Temple. So he knew that the distaste flickered across his face. The Captain had the wisdom not to comment on it. _Good._

“I will retire to my chambers. I am not to be disturbed unless there is news of Re-” he stopped himself. Her name turned to ash in his mouth. Those wounds were too fresh. His pride not yet mended. The loss still keenly felt. “Of the Jedi girl.” Around him, the officers nodded and turned away. 

The doors to his chamber closed behind him. With a carelessly practiced motion, he doffed his cape, letting the black fabric billow and land on the back of a chair. The gloves followed in a haphazard pile on the table. His tall form curled inwards, relinquishing his violently perfect posture. A mirror was mounted on the wall. His reflection stared back at him, dark eyes wild. And then the reflection began to change.

Kylo Ren, the master of the Knights of Ren, former Sith apprentice, heir of Darth Vader and the new Supreme Leader of the First Order faded away. His true mask was removed. Not his helmet. No, the mask he had worn every day since he razed Luke’s temple to the ground. Wild eyes shifted. Saddened. The harsh lines he always drew his face into smoothed. It made him look younger. Almost like he had the day Skywalker attempted to assassinate him. And then the transformation was complete. In Kylo’s place stood Ben Solo: lost, confused, frightened, and heartbroken.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. The weight of his persona was slowly growing wearisome. Kylo Ren was a mask he had worn for years. Who was he without Kylo? Once more Ben’s eyes snagged on the glass viewing port. Scanning the horizon. Searching, as he always was. For Rey. 

It was impossible to rid himself of her. Her face flashed through his mind, tracing back to their first meeting. The frightened girl in the forest on Takodana. Facing down a lightsaber with a single flimsy blaster. He had seen the look in her eyes. The She saw a predator in a mask hunting her. And maybe she had been right.

Then there was stubborn girl during the interrogation. Calling him a monster in a mask. There had been no real motive to remove his mask. It wasn’t a strategically sound decision and he knew it. Kylo Ren never revealed his face. Not to Hux, not to Snoke. What in the Force was it about the girl- Rey- that made him do it? He had relished the surprise that flashed across her face when she first saw his. Seen the confusion, the shock. She had been expecting a horrendous visage. Not a young man.

Now, Ben saw the powerful girl, standing in the snow on Starkiller Base and matching his saber blow for blow with hers. The sky above black. The absence of light from the stolen sun casting night around them in the frozen forest. Red and blue light dancing across the ground. She was like Luke’s saber: calm, poised. Ben was like Kylo’s saber: violent, unhinged, barely contained. He could hear the sizzle and crack of snowflakes melting on their blades. 

He felt every blow she landed. The searing agony that accompanied each strike. His thigh, his shoulder, and finally his face. Fingers drifted up to the wound. The medical droids had done a decent job. It would barely be a mark by the time it was fully healed. Ben found he didn’t want to lose his scar. It was something she had given him to carry always. When it faded, it would be like losing Rey.

Rey. His equal in the light. That intuitive, impressive, impossible girl. 

Her rage flaring white hot when the connection between them began. Incapable of understanding why Kylo Ren had killed Han Solo. So desperate for family. She wanted what he had since birth, and yet they were both searching for that belonging. Rey was a mirror of himself. 

And then, somehow, he saw under her mask. Funny, really. Ben had always been clear about his own mask. But Rey. Her mask was with her everywhere she went. It was only in her eyes that you could catch a glimpse of the truth, and then only the briefest of glances. Underneath the facade of the lone scavenger, underneath the power and the courage was a sad, lonely girl with so much hope for belonging. Still waiting for her family to come for her.

He had hoped she would understand. That maybe, just maybe the Force was connecting them for a reason. If she understood, then that meant he wasn’t alone anymore. He had someone out there, someone like him. His own words echoed in his memory. _Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to_.

He had never expected for her to actually take his advice. She went to the dark place on Skywalker’s island seeking answers. So that she could finally move forward. Rey went there looking for her past. She had found nothing.

Then she was sitting there across from him, shaking and cold and afraid. Her Resistance friends were gone, Luke had abandoned her. Not Ben. He would never abandon her like the others did. Her hand, trembling in the orange firelight. Quivering and alone and reaching out to him. She called him Ben. He hated that name. The history it came with. The loneliness. The betrayal. But when Rey said it, she said it with compassion. With hope that the broken boy would come back to Leia, to the Resistance. To Rey. When their hands had touched, Ben had felt it. The light inside of her shining like a thousand suns. The hope that always came with the Light. More than that. Rey had faith in him. In them. That together they could put the universe right.

Ben launched to his feet and stormed across his quarters to pour himself a drink. He downed it, and after considering the empty glass poured another. He rarely indulged, preferring to keep absolute control over his own thoughts and actions. It was so much harder to separate his thoughts from Snoke’s when he was intoxicated. The lines blurred. He hated that loss of control.

Tonight, though. Tonight was different. He had finally understood what it was to belong to something. To some _one_. For the first time that he could remember, Ben had understood his place in the universe. He saw what they could be. Ruling the galaxy and restoring order. Light and Dark in perfect balance. Just the two of them against the stars. And then it was gone. Snatched away in an instant by Rey’s pride and stubborn resolve. 

With every thought of Rey, Ben drank. Every memory of the sound of his name on her lips, he drank. For every blow they had landed on the Praetorian Guards in perfect, unpracticed harmony he drank. Her hand on his thigh. His back pressed to hers. Rey throwing him his grandfather’s lightsaber to save him. She was always saving him...

The edges of his vision grew hazy and unfocused. The empty glass hung loosely from Ben’s fingers, and he lifted it level with his eyes, examining it. A couple of rosy drops of liquor gathered in the bottom of the glass. As he turned it, the drops beaded across the surface in orbit. Always synchronized, but never touching. He didn’t remember finishing his third drink. Or was it his fourth? 

Warmth suffused his body. A pleasant warmth. Like dawn light. Hadn’t Rey come from a desert planet? Was the sun as kind on Jakku as it had been on his home? Chandrila’s verdant hills and wild oceans were a far cry from the wild, unforgiving deserts of Rey’s home. There was kindness on Chandrila. Hope. Love. Unlike her childhood. Fear, isolation, starvation. 

How did Rey survive that place? How could anyone? He could just picture a tiny girl, three buns in her hair surrounded in the market by cruel men with dark eyes and cackling laughs. Rey would hold her staff in both hands. She fought them off with fire in her eyes and a Loth cat snarl. 

There was so much Ben didn’t know about her. Yes, he had breached her mind when they first met. The interrogation seemed as if it had been years past. So much has changed since then. It all left him with more questions about the scavenger. The Jedi.

“When I was at the temple,” Ben murmured aloud. “I used to avoid the other students. They knew who I was. Always treated me differently because I was Luke’s nephew. Or maybe it was because I was the grandson of Darth Vader. They respected me, but there was always a line between me and the rest. Home wasn’t much better. Father didn’t know what to do with a child. Mother cared and she did her best, but there were obligations. I was left to myself more often than not. Never alone, but always lonely.”

Ben was too drunk to feel if the connection between himself and Rey had sharpened. He didn’t care if she could hear him and cared more than he probably should if she could not. But the words kept the darkness at bay, at least for a little while. So Ben kept on.

“The first few months I hardly slept. Nightmares. A consequence of leaving home. At least, that’s what Skywalker told me. I foolishly believed him. They never went away though. They grew as I did, increasing with my powers. They were horrible dreams. Full of death and bloodshed. I watched my family die. Saw my home burning. Now I know it was Snoke poisoning my mind, seeding chaos and anger in my heart.” Ben laughed, bitter and cold. “After all, it is the Jedi way to control your emotions. I’ve never been good at that. For years my dreams were turned by Snoke. It’s amazing I held out for as long as I did. Fighting for control, fighting to protect myself from whatever it was that twisted my fears.

“But that night when I woke to find Skywalker standing over me, lightsaber drawn. I knew then that I had no choice but to give in to the temptation of the Dark Side. My own uncle was willing to strike me down in my sleep. They didn’t give me a choice. I wasn’t- I’m not strong enough to fight them, Rey.” Ben examined his hands, head drooping down. “I’m not like you.”  
He braced himself to hear her reply. Half expecting her to chastise him and call him a monster again. Half expecting her to tell him that she knows he is strong enough to return to the Light. Shoulders tensed, eyes squeezed shut.

But Ben was met with only silence.

“Rey?” he looked up. The room was empty. No Rey. Just an empty bottle. Ben choked on a sudden lump in his throat. Something inside of him cracked. Splintered into a thousand pieces. Hot tears burned his cheeks. 

Her betrayal felt real, now. Rey had severed whatever remained of the connection Snoke had forged between them. Her answer now resolute. Rey would never join him and rule the galaxy by his side. She could never turn from the Light. 

Ben slid to the floor, arms wrapped around his knees like the frightened boy that first day at the Jedi temple. His hope drained out of him, leaving his blood cold and his heart in pieces. He wanted to scream, to break things. That’s what Kylo Ren would do. But he wasn’t Kylo Ren right now. He bowed his head, resting his forehead atop his knees and wept because he finally realized the horrible truth.

Ben Solo was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> "On many long journeys have I gone. And waited, too, for others to return from journeys of their own. Some return; some are broken; some come back so different only their names remain."-Yoda, in Dark Rendezvous
> 
> This fic quickly got out of hand. It was supposed to be a little one shot, but over 3,000 words later here we are.
> 
> My first work in the Star Wars fandom!
> 
> Comments and kudos feed this poor author's soul. Let me know if you want to see more of these. I'm very happy to write them in the aftermath of TROS


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